The Fire That Forged Us
by moholli
Summary: 1947. Another day, another psych eval at HYDRA. But when the base undergoes a power outage and the Winter Soldier uses the Commander's daughter to escape, all is not as it seems. She carries the Red Book with her at all times, the contents unbeknownst to Bucky until he discovers the truth hidden in his memories. But will he get to hold on to those memories? Read on to find out.
1. Chapter 1: FURNACE

"Меня зовут доктор Гертруда Ида."

Her name is Doctor Gertrude Ida.

"Я был назначен, чтобы оценить вас."

She says she's been assigned to evaluate me.

"Можете ли вы сказать мне, в каком году это?"

She asks me to tell her what year it is —

But —

I don't know what year it is.

"Год девятнадцать сорок семь."

1947 —

1947 —

Why does that sound familiar?

"Вы можете сказать мне свое имя?"

The doctor asks me to recite my name —

My name?

Why would they ask that?

"Ваше имя Джеймс Бьюкенен Барнс."

"My _name_ ," I spit out, "is Bucky."

Electricity surges through my arms —

I clamp my eyes shut as fire races along my skin, burning and cutting into muscle-deep into my flesh —

I let out a scream, needing some sort of release from this pain —

A crash of metal on metal fills the room —

Doctor Ida leapt from her chair —

"What are you doing?!" She yells in Russian. "Turn it off!"

She continues barking orders at the technicians until the whir of the machines die down and finally —

God, _finally_ , the pain subsides, dulling to a numb ache.

I draw deep breaths. Each longer and more full than the previous.

My body tingles.

I look at the doctor standing before me.

She's not who I expected her to be.

She's not Zola. She doesn't look at me like he did, like I'm one of his experiments. She evaluates me, collecting data and writing it in the red book in her hands, but she's not cold or cruel which is… unusual for someone who works for HYDRA. Her eyes roam over my chest to my arms strapped in metal restraints beside me. Something about her is familiar but since I was last wiped, I can't place how I know her.

Which is good because I don't want to know. The more I know, the more they erase what I've learned. But they never seem to erase what they've taught me.

And yet —

I find myself staring.

Judging by the evenness of her skin, she's twenty-seven years old. She has a slim frame but a strong build, approximately 153 pounds when taking her muscle mass into consideration. And there's a smooth air about her as she stands with her shoulders back and her head held high. Her face is round, her features soft, and her eyes kind.

Why is someone like her working for HYDRA?

Why did she order them to stop?

The metal door to the chamber creaks opens and I don't look away from her as she turns to face the Commander.

"Why did you stop?" He demands, marching into the room.

I eye the open door behind him.

"Sergeant Barnes is displaying regularities in his paternal behavior," she explains, Russian effortlessly rolling off her tongue. "There is no need to force his submission."

"He shouldn't have been speaking in English," Commander Ida spits.

The doctor takes in a breath. "Sir, nothing was wrong — "

"During his last mission, he disabled twelve of my men! Something is definitely wrong!"

"He accomplished his assignment, did he not?"

"At the casualty of his actions!"

I look up at the woman.

Why is she defending me?

"Sir," she says, softer this time, "you gave me the assignment as Sergeant Barnes personal psychologist. I have been studying this man for nearly a year and I strongly dis-advise torturing him to gain his cooperation!"

"This is not open for discussion!" The Commander bellows. "Start it again."

I brace myself for pain —

But the lights shut off.

There's a four second window until the backup generators turn on —

I bust my left arm from the metal clasp and rip the other restraints.

Red emergency lights flick on in the hallway —

The Commander shouts orders at his men —

My handlers are drawing their weapons —

I charge the one my right. Out of the corner of my eye, Commander Ida holds his arm in front of the doctor, protecting her while pulling out his own gun —

I lunge at the technician and throw two punches, blocking both of his. I grab the gun from his belt, press the chamber against his abdomen, and pull the trigger. I spin around, using his limp body as a shield, and shoot the other men across the room without even having to aim. I drop the human barrier, kick the gun from the Commander's hands, and it fires into the ceiling, leaving behind a ringing in my ears that doesn't bother me.

Not much of anything bothers me anymore.

I shove the Commander away from his daughter, grab her, and spin her around to face him while pressing the gun to her head.

"Wait!" He exclaims.

Eight soldiers, fully armed and ready to disable me, file into the room and train their weapons on me. The lights flicker on as power is restored to the base, and I can hear the crackle of electricity running through chair I sat in just moments ago.

"Let her go or we shoot," the Commander threatens.

"Let me go, or I shoot." My voice comes out lower, more defiant than usual.

I press the chamber against Gertrude harder, but she doesn't whimper or flinch. For once someone isn't scared of me.

Why isn't she scared of me?

I slowly back out of the room, the gun still pressed to her temple as I drag her with me. The soldiers inch closer as we approach the door and the second we reach the threshold, I throw her into the hallway and grab hold of her elbow as she scrambles to her feet, forcing her to stay at my side as we take off into a sprint.

I would leave her behind —

I _should_ leave her behind —

But I need her if I'm going to get out of here.

Alive.

Behind us, Commander Ida bellows orders at the soldiers, pointing his finger at his daughter and I, his face red with anger. There is something childish in his movements, almost cartoonish.

Cartoons —

I haven't seen one of those in years —

Men are yelling; each of them chasing after us, needing to capture us as if their life depends on it. Gertrude runs ahead of me, surprisingly fast, to the double doors at the end of the corridor and rams them open with her shoulder. I follow suit and she slams them shut after I come through, jamming the handles with a pipe.

I stare at her.

She simply turns, nodding her head down the hall. "You were escaping?" She says and takes off running again.

I follow her through the maze of tunnels, confused, and see that she's still carrying that red notebook of hers and her white lab coat is swishing behind her and —

There's a rush of bodies slamming against the door, trying to break it down.

I run hard and ignore the thoughts of what they would do this time if they caught me.

Alarms blare in every corridor and the red lights flashing above distort the hallways a little but we run through the base in silence. The only sound is our feet thumping on the concrete floor and the shouting of the soldiers behind us as we continue to put distance between us and them. I hear metal jostling along Gertrude's leg: A pistol strapped to her thigh.

I glance at her.

Why hasn't she used it on me?

I grip her arm again and press the gun into her back.

We approach the door that leads outside and Gertrude reaches for something along the wall —

I immediately stop her, grabbing her wrist and pinning her against the wall with my forearm. She looks at me with wide eyes but doesn't fight out of my grasp. She opens the palm of her hand to reveal a set of keys.

"Subject exhibits signs of distrust," she says, repeating a phrase that must be from her notebook.

I slowly release my hold.

Of course I don't trust her. I don't trust anyone.

And I have no idea who she is or why she's helping me, especially when I just held her at gunpoint _and_ she has a gun of her own —

I stride past her, push open the door, and slip outside into the frigid night air. We silently move through the snow covered ground, the white flakes swirling in the wind and squishing under my feet. Soldiers hurry about, searching the compound for us and another squadron runs past. I press myself into the shadows, placing a hand on Gertrude and urging her to do the same —

But she's already keeping out of sight.

Like she doesn't want to be seen. Like she doesn't want to be caught.

Like she doesn't want _me_ to be caught.

"Cover me," she whispers, and by the time I look over at her, she's breaking into an all out sprint to a facility vehicle.

Bullets suddenly whir past and I shield myself with my left arm as I tuck and roll to safety. Up on the guard tower, two men stand shooting round after round and I quickly fire two shots at them, hear their bodies collapse forty feet above me, and dive for cover again.

As if Gertrude couldn't have timed it better, she comes barreling around the corner in an AFB and without slowing down, she throws open the passenger door —

And I break into a run.

I leap into the seat beside her, pulling myself up the rest of the way, and shut the door behind me. Soldiers jump out of the way as we plow forward. Some fire their weapons, but it does nothing to stop us from breaking out of the compound.

This is it —

I'm out.

I'm free.


	2. Chapter 2: RUSTED

We make it a hundred kilometers west in silence. We should be getting close to Moscow by now.

Part of me wants to go back to HYDRA.

I've never been this rebellious before, but I've also never made it this far before.

The other part of me wants to keep going. Keep going and never stop until I'm at the farthest possible place on earth away from them.

And that's exactly what I intend to do.

We travel another fifteen kilometers as Gertrude drives us toward the city. I didn't tell her to go there, but she must have the same plan I do: Disappear amongst the masses of people. It's easy to get lost in a crowd, or to lose someone in it.

Images of a blonde boy slam to the front of my mind —

But I quickly push them away because —

I don't know any blonde boy —

Do I know a blonde boy?

Gertrude veers to the side of the road and we abandon the vehicle, hiding it in a grove of trees and covering it with branches. We walk the rest of the way into town. The snow covered pavement slips between my toes and despite not minding the familiar cold, I know I need clothing to blend in.

We begin passing a few houses scattered along the hill side until we come across an entire neighborhood that is peacefully, blissfully asleep. I see a family's laundry hung up to dry and I jump over the fence into the backyard in search of a shirt.

Gertrude enters the yard through the gate, shutting it behind her without a sound.

I glance at her. Her movements are silent. She's there one moment and the next she's gone.

The only other person I know like that is me.

I pluck a shirt from the wire and pull it over my head. A pair of boots approximately my size lay near the back door so I sit on the porch steps and lace them onto my feet.

I don't like stealing, but I'll do what it takes to survive.

There's movement in the corner of my eye and I snap my head to see Gertrude standing in the yard. I relax a little at the sight of her. While I was changing, she changed into a leather jacket and pants, cinched around her waist. She walks over to me and I notice she's changed her shoes from heels to boots.

"You'll need this," she says, offering me a jacket.

I stare at her, caught off guard by the fact she's speaking to me in English with a perfect American accent. It takes me a moment but I take it from her, realizing I need to cover up the metal arm. The coat is soft and warm.

I haven't worn something this comfortable since —

Since —

Well, I can't remember when.

"We should keep moving," Gertrude says. "If you want to get ahead of the Soviets, you need to hurry. The Commander won't stop until he has you back in that chair."

The chair —

The compound —

Pain —

HYDRA —

Conformance —

No.

No way I'm going back there.

I stride off the porch and into the night, glancing over my shoulder every so often to make sure Gertrude is following as we trek into the city. She follows willingly and neither of us say anything as we walk down the streets, knowing our voices would carry and give our location away. It's late in the evening and a few people and cars move about but there are hushed tones in the distance. I tilt my head toward the source and focus on it.

I notice Gertrude watching me.

"What do you hear?" She asks.

I'm tempted not to respond, but it won't do me any harm if I do.

"Police force fifty meters away," I state. "They're positioned at every block. Your father must have tipped off the government."

"My father is the government," she retorts, and I glance at her.

She's not wrong.

I just don't understand why she's helping me and running from her father, or why she sounds American —

A pair of HYDRA soldiers round the corner in front of us with no prior warning, and I'm not sure by whose actions but, Gertrude and I pull each other into an alley. She presses herself against the brick wall and I lean over her, hiding my face away from the street lamps and covering her with my shadow.

Neither of us dare move. I feel Gertrude's hands on my chest and back, pulling me close, and I shiver slightly when her breath touches my face. Back in the compound, I never looked my handlers quite in the eye. But as I look at Gertrude, our noses practically touching, I realize her eyes are the most brilliant shade of blue, shimmering even in the dim light —

An image of those same eyes flashes in my mind —

I try my best to ignore it —

Ignore the pain —

But the pictures, the memories —

They're coming faster as time passes —

And they hurt —

God, do they hurt —

Finally the heavy drum of the soldiers' footsteps pass and it's like my pain leaves with them and the noise of the world starts up and fills my senses again.

I look at Gertrude, and she blinks a few times like she's trying to blink out whatever thought she was having. "We need shelter," she says. "I can take you somewhere safe."

I remove myself from her, taking a step back as she walks further into the alley, but my feet stay planted.

I can't follow her.

Not after what I just saw —

What I remembered —

I don't know her even though my brain claims I do.

I don't trust her. I don't know who she is, I don't know why she's helping me —

I don't know if she'll lead me back to her father, back to HYDRA —

Because if she is, I won't follow her.

I can't go back there.

I won't.

"Hey," Gertrude says, and something soft in her voice makes me look over at her. "You could have pulled that trigger back there at any time but I trusted that you wouldn't. At least return the favor." She smiles a little and something in that smile, something in the back of my head, tells me that I _can_ trust her.

I trusted she wouldn't shoot me at the compound, didn't I?

I walk over to her and Gertrude turns down the alley, leading the way to our safe haven. A few blocks over at the edge of town, we come to a stop outside a brick building that looks like it was built in the last century and could collapse at any moment. But at this point, anything is better than the compound.

Gertrude approaches the side of the building and stops, looking up at a ladder hanging a meter above her head. Figuring that's our way into an apartment, I take a step back, preparing to jump and pull it down when Gertrude races past me, jumps, grabs the ladder, and pulls it down with her.

I stand motionless.

She lands softly on her feet and begins climbing. I scan her over, trying to uncover where that much strength and ability resides within her.

I come up with nothing.

I watch her from a few rungs below as we make our ascent. I didn't mean to look but some of her shirt has risen up her back, untucking from her pants, and stashed into the waistline is her red notebook.

I always saw her writing in it when she came to evaluate me. Nothing ever happened, but why hold on to notes you don't need?

Gertrude places her foot on another rung and the metal snaps from under her. She jolts to the side and I quickly grab her, holding her back from a fifty foot drop.

I didn't mean to grab her by her hip but now my hand is just there and I feel her shaky breath through her abdomen, her blood pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat —

"You all right?" I ask.

She breathes a nervous laugh. "Define all right."

Part of me wants to laugh, and the other part of me doesn't know if I'm allowed to.

I decide on a weak smile.

We continue climbing until we make it onto the fire escape and walk up several more flights. I follow Gertrude onto the landing and take a look around, ensuring we're not being followed, while she undoes the latch on the window. I hear the lock clicking open and turn as she pushes up the glass panel and climbs inside, saying, "We'll hold up here for the night."

I cautiously step inside the dark apartment, my muscles tensing for a fight in case this is a trap. Nothing happens but within twenty seconds, three different escape routes are mapped out in my mind.

I close the window behind me. Every step is filled with hesitancy as I move farther inside. There's a small living area, empty except for a sagging couch, and a grime covered kitchen to the left and a hallway straight ahead leading to a bathroom and bedroom.

"It's not much," Gertrude says, sounding hopeful, "but it's… not much."

"It's perfect."

She smiles at this, and something warm spreads in my chest.

"My father pays off a lot of government officials," she explains, moving to tidy up the apartment. "He owns a lot of the city but not this precinct. He says he doesn't care for it with it being so run down and all, so I suspect he won't come looking here." She crosses to the window in the living room and before she has a chance to peek out between the moth-eaten curtains, I'm at her side, grabbing her elbow, and yanking her away from the window.

"Stay out of the light," I warn, "and keep your voice down."

Gertrude looks up at me, her bright eyes somehow still shining in the faint light. Our breaths cross paths and I feel that warmness in my chest again.

"Why are you protecting me?" She asks, her voice barely that of a whisper.

"Why did you tell them to stop?"

Gertrude slips out of my hold, timidly taking a step back. "I don't know," she says to the floor.

"You're lying," I spit, stepping toward her, and a glimpse of fear flashes in her eyes before it vanishes, replaced with her usual poise.

I step back.

That was more threatening than intended.

I try to remember how to be gentle.

In fact, the only reason I'm able to remember anything is because of her. As my evaluator, she's the one who gave the order not to have my brain wiped to a blank slate. And the longer I'm not wiped, the more I remember.

"I haven't been wiped in six months," I start, solicitous. "I know you had something to do with that."

"Why hold me hostage and escape?" She fires back. "Why take me with you?"

I don't know how to respond to that because —

I don't know why I brought her with me.

I don't know why I have this _need_ to protect her.

I don't know why I do anything —

I'm not even sure my actions are my own.

I begin to walk out of the room.

"Get some sleep," I mumble over my shoulder. And before Gertrude can argue, I walk down the hall to the bedroom and shut the door behind me.


	3. Chapter 3: SEVENTEEN

The first signs of daybreak filter in through the curtains. My eyes burn from staying awake all night but the agitation is nothing in comparison to prior installments of pain.

I barely sleep to begin with. I only sleep when it's absolutely necessary or when I was commanded to do so. And when I do sleep, it's feather-light and I'll wake at the slightest noise. I dream of things and images and people and places I don't understand and they always fade to nothing when I wake.

I restlessly twirl the knife in my hand. I got it from the kitchen. It's not as sharp as I'd like but it'll do.

The ceiling creaks overhead and I immediately pause, listening to the sound. There are hushed movements and the shuffling of boots that are all too familiar —

HYDRA —

HYDRA surrounds us —

I knew we shouldn't have stayed —

I _knew_ I shouldn't have trusted her —

I silently move to the living room where Gertrude lay asleep on the couch. I clamp a hand over her mouth to wake her, and to prevent her from speaking. Her eyes flash open from the sudden lack of oxygen and her arm twitches for her gun stashed under the cushions but I catch her wrist with my other hand, stopping her from putting a bullet in me.

I hold her there for a moment as she process that it's just me, like it's supposed to be a comfort, and she looks up at me with wide, panicked eyes.

I should have used my right hand as to not frighten her with the metal pressed to her skin. Her knuckles are turning white from gripping the couch; She recognizes that it's me but she doesn't understand what's going on.

I flit my gaze to the ceiling and she does the same. The weight on the roof shifts, creaking as someone moves around. Based on the difference in air density coming from the soldiers, there are at least ten of them. They plan on bringing us in alive otherwise they would have already neutralized us. We have to fight them off and get through that window or we're done for.

I look down at her, and she nods like she understands. I pull my hands away from her and while she tugs on her boots, I slowly approach to the window in the living room, careful not to be seen. I peer around the edge of the curtain to see the corner of the building where the fire escape lies —

But it's no use.

A soldier aims a grenade launcher at the window and fires.

I jump back, diving away from my position and instinctively pull Gertrude to the floor with me as a sound so big hits the air as solid as a fist and —

The windows shatter, blowing glass into the apartment, and I'm shielding Gertrude under me and I don't know _why_ I'm protecting her and —

Soldiers repel down the side of the building and into the apartment through the broken windows. Gertrude immediately reaches behind her head, grabbing her gun stuffed between the couch cushions, and I roll off of her as she shoots two soldiers from her spot on the floor.

She jumps to her feet and I get my knees under me, throwing the knife into the mass of soldiers assembling —

It hits right where it was meant—

And the man cries out and falls to the floor.

Gertrude slides over the kitchen counter for cover and continues firing at the soldiers. I quickly get to my feet only to be tackled again. An arm slips around my neck, starting to squeeze until my lungs ache. I get my hands underneath me and push off the floor, twisting to the side, throwing the attacker off. I spin and kick the man in his face, his head cracking to right and blood flying from his mouth.

Three more soldiers rush me from behind and grab my arms, pulling me to my feet. I try to break free as another soldier steps in front of me, a vicious grin crossing his face. He draws his arm back and slams his fist into my stomach. I double over at the explosion of pain and nausea.

I retch but have nothing to throw up.

I catch a glimpse of Gertrude fighting like a lion, pushing men and elbowing faces and throwing bodies to the floor —

Thank God it's me getting beaten and not her.

I take another punch and —

I hear a scream like a battle cry come from Gertrude and I lift my head to see her charging toward me and suddenly my captors' grip is lessened. She's tackled one of them to the floor and I swing back hard and smash my elbow into the chin of the other soldier, freeing my arm. I lunge forward and take the man who punched me to the ground. I rear my fist back and see Gertrude, who's stolen the soldier's rifle, get up from a tussle with two men who lay unmoving at her feet.

"You gotta get out of here!" I shout.

"I'm not leaving you!"

Images of that damn blonde boy _slam_ to the front of my mind —

Steve —

His name —

Is Steve —

I don't bother with the man on the receiving end of my fist anymore.

I dive toward a stray gun, grab it and stand, swinging the weapon without even looking which direction the soldier is coming at me from. I connect, hitting him in the ear, and he crumples to the floor.

I make my way to Gertrude, fighting in the living room near the window and throw a fast punch at the man approaching. He puts up his forearm as a block. I punch him with my left then drive with my right, hitting him in the nose. I quickly knee him in the stomach followed by an uppercut to the jaw. He falls backward, slamming his forehead on the kitchen counter on the way down.

I grab another soldier, charging forward at us, and drive my knee into his stomach and punch him backward, allowing Gertrude to climb through the window and onto the fire escape. I kick another soldier, shoving him back as I dive through the window and roll onto the landing.

I scramble after Gertrude already climbing down the ladder. Heavy footsteps ring out against the flat metal as the soldiers race after us. Bullets rain down and I raise my left arm over me as a shield and see Gertrude sprinting from her exposed position —

I grab a nearby repel line and swing to the ground, grabbing her and rolling out us of the way right as the explosion of a rifle cuts through the air and —

Pure, raw pain rips through my shoulder —

And the breath in my lungs evaporates along with the glimmer of hope I had about escaping HYDRA.

Gertrude stares at me from her sprawled out position on the pavement.

" _Bucky…"_

The coil of pain in my shoulder quickly spreads —

And I can already feel myself shutting down —

I clasp my hand against the meaty part above my armpit, red seeping onto my silver fingers.

"Go," I tell her, urging her to leave before they take her too.

Gertrude glances up at the soldiers running down the stairs and pushes herself to her feet.

But she doesn't leave like I expect.

She comes to my side and props me up under her arm, hauling me to my feet. I groan at the movement, grinding my teeth to control the pain.

"I told you," she huffs, "I'm not leaving you."

We shuffle round the corner where a motorcycle leans against the brick wall. She swings a leg over, roars the engine to life, and I slide onto the seat behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She's sturdier than I expected. Stronger.

I vaguely hear shouting and gunfire but the hole throbbing in my shoulder makes it hard to concentrate on anything.

Gertrude races us away from the building, driving out of the city and into the morning light. I bury my face into her back, doing everything I can to keep my shoulder still.

I try to embrace the pain like I've been taught.

Pain is temporary —

Pain is irrelevant —

Pain is nonexistent —

The pain is numb.

So is my body.

So is my mind —

So is everything else.


	4. Chapter 4: DAYBREAK

My eyes crack open. The room is dark but moonlight filters in through a window behind me; I sense that a long spell of time has passed.

I stare at the ceiling of another unfamiliar place and shift on the thin mattress, trying to find a position where a spring doesn't dig into my lower back, but it feels heavenly compared to the rot in my shoulder. I slowly sit up, careful not to move the injury, but it still sends a wave of pain down to my spine.

I roll up my sleeve to inspect the wound. A blanket of gauze covers the area and I carefully lift the adhesive to see that the hole has been sewn back together with hardly a trace that a bullet was there.

Gertrude must have patched me up. But I don't remember her doing so. Nor do I remember getting here, which looks like another apartment. Or maybe it's a house.

I don't understand how she could have carried me by herself. I just don't understand.

I don't understand her.

There's a shift in the air as someone steps into the room and judging by how quiet their steps are, I know it's her.

"I thought you were a psychologist," I grumble, my words slurring together. I look up to see her leaning against the door frame.

Gertrude smiles. "I'm a lot of things you don't know."

"Is that supposed to be a comfort?"

She laughs as she walks into the room and drags a chair from the corner and sits in front of me. She leans forward, removing the bandage on my shoulder. "I gave you a tranquilizer so you could get some rest," she says, answering a question I hadn't yet asked, a question I didn't even know I had.

My head hurts again.

I watch Gertrude as she cleans the wound and replaces the bandage.

Her hands are soft.

I've only known things that are cold and hard for so long that I want to pull away.

But I don't.

"Thank you," I say. My voice is rough but quiet. I don't want to frighten her like I do with so many others.

She gives me a warm smile, a kind of light reaching her eyes. "You save my life, I save yours."

I nod, but the action is hollow.

Memories of saving lives flood through my mind —

And there's that blonde boy again —

But he's not a boy, he's a man —

And I remember him.

"I had this friend," I say, and swallow upon realizing how dry my mouth is. "He was always getting into fights he couldn't win. Somehow I'd always find him and save his stupid ass." I let out a laugh, and Gertrude smiles. But as fast as the levity came, it fades. "Guess HYDRA couldn't take that part out of me…"

She stares at me, gently asking, "What was his name?"

"Steve."

Gertrude looks at me in awe. "You remember him," she whispers.

I nod.

I didn't even have to try to remember his name. It just came.

"Steve would be happy to hear that… I knew him too, you know."

My brow furrows with confusion. "How?" I ask, looking over at her.

Gertrude draws a deep breath, like she doesn't want to say something but she needs to say something.

"From back home," she answers. "From the war."

Something inside me flips like a switch —

I immediately jump from the bed, backing away from her all the while ignoring the pain in my shoulder —

"Who are you?" I ask, my left arm defensively raising itself in front of me.

My usual steady heartbeat races in my chest as do the questions crossing my mind —

How would she know Steve from back home when she's from Russia? Why does she speak English so well? Why did she stop them from wiping my brain? How did she manage to carry me to this apartment? Why do I have the need to protect her? Why can't I shake the feeling that I know her?

Gertrude slowly stands from the chair, showing me her hands that she means no harm. "Bucky, you have every reason to be nervous but I'm not here to hurt you."

"Who the hell are you?" I repeat.

She lowers her hands and stands up straight like I'm not a threat, like I couldn't kill her in one move if I wanted. "My name is Anne Warrison," she says. "I'm a friend of Peggy Carter's and an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm super-soldier like you and your friend, Steve Rogers, and I've been assigned to bring you home."

My arm is still raised in front of me but I don't leave, even though the door is wide open. If Gertrude — Anne — this woman — knew Steve, I want to know everything I can.

I remember when HYDRA told me Steve was dead, gone in the ice somewhere; That was the last time that I cried. Tears froze on my face when they put me on ice the very first time.

I think I came out a different man.

"You're a super-soldier?"

She nods.

"How?"

"After Steve took the nose dive into the water, Howard Stark worked around the clock to recreate Doctor Erskine's serum. But this time the subject would be covert, used for top secret missions within the government program, S.H.I.E.L.D… Like the extraction of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes."

Anne stares at me with a type of affection I will never be able to erase from my mind. I realize my arm is slowly lowering to my side again.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," she says, remorse clouding her features. "I had to be sure your reaction wouldn't end poorly."

I vacantly nod.

"Buck — "

"Why come for me?" I ask, my thoughts getting the better of my mouth. "If you are who you say you are, then you're important to this… agency. Why would they risk you for me?"

Anne gives a sheepish smile. "I volunteered."

I stare at her.

"I know how much you meant to Steve," she continues. "He would have wanted to know that you're safe."

Talking about Steve so much makes my heart hurt, maybe even more so than the pain in my shoulder or the throbbing in my head from remembering so much. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and control the pain.

"How did you convince the Commander that you're his daughter?" I finally ask.

"Fourteen weeks in S.H.I.E.L.D., learning everything I could about HYDRA's chain of command and procedural operations while studying psychology, another seven gaining Ida's trust as his long lost daughter, and four months at the compound before becoming your evaluator."

And it's like every question inside me is answered.

"You asked why I had the technicians stop?" Anne looks down at her hands. "I hated what they were doing to you…"

And on her face, I see it. I see how terrible she feels about all of it: Watching me suffer for months, unable to stop my brain being scrubbed clean again and again as she played the part as that vile man's daughter, all just to gain trust and stage a power outage she knew I would take advantage of because she knows me. She knew I would do that and she knows me.

She knows me —

And I know her.

"But you're out," Anne says, "that's what matters."

I nod absently, refusing to look her in the eye. Because when I look at her, those painful images flood in and I can't deal with that right now. I can't deal with more memories, or how I know her, there's too much going on, there's too much that's changing, too much I don't understand —

A hand is placed on my cool, metal one.

"Bucky — "

Images of Anne laying in my arms flash through my head faster than ever before —

I bring a hand to my aching head —

I feel myself start to sway and I reach my arm out and lean against the wall, somehow hoping it will stabilize my thoughts as it does my body —

"Buck, what's wrong?" Anne gently asks, suddenly at my side but I raise a hand, warning her to stay back.

There's nothing she can do to help —

I barely know what's going on —

How am I supposed to explain what's happening in my head when I can't explain it to myself?

Another image of her slams into the forethoughts of my mind —

I stumble along the length of the wall, squeezing my eyes shut as if I can shut out the pain —

She's beautiful —

Anne's blue eyes roll back as a laugh escapes her velvet lips —

And a tsunami of memories crash into me and I can't break through the surface to breathe —

Anne —

Dancing —

Ocean —

Airstrip —

Anne —

Longing —

Steve —

Freight car —

HYDRA.

I press my hands to my head. It feels like it could explode any second as the pain only grows and grows and it's too much it's too much it's —

A hand rests on my shoulder and I grab it, my reflexes acting before I even think to stop it, and I twist Anne's arm behind her back and slam her against the wall.

The only sound in my ears is my racing heartbeat. I hear the blood pulsing in my veins. My chest heaves up and down as I stare at Anne pressed to the wall. Blood drips from her nostril down to her lip and I immediately let go of her.

I look down at my hands and my right hand is shaking while my left is still and ruthless and cold.

I want to apologize. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to be free of this pain —

Anne steps away from the wall and gingerly touches her busted nose.

"Do you want to sleep?" She asks.

I look at her. Her voice is thick with tears but there aren't any on her cheeks.

"I have another tranquilizer I can give you but only if you want it. It'll help you sleep," she says, lowering her hand, covered in blood. "And sleep will give you answers."

I drag myself to the edge of the bed and sit down. Anne removes the syringe from her back pocket.

She had it on her this whole time and she didn't use it.

I don't understand —

Anne steps closer to me, and I offer her my arm where there's a slight pinch and almost immediate sleep. She leads me down as I lower myself onto the bed, and I feel myself holding on to her.

I don't want to find these answers without her.

I want her to stay.

And I must have said it outloud because she says, "I'll always stay with you."

And the pain subsides and my senses dull, and sleep washes over me like cold, crashing waves.


	5. Chapter 5: ONE NINE

_The heavy beat pounds from the drums on stage and I know exactly what song the band is starting. "C'mon!" I smile at Annie, tugging her onto the dance floor. "I love this song."_

" _Yes, but are you as light on your feet as you are smooth with your words?" She teases as I take her hands in mine, stepping into a swing._

" _Oooh! You've got fire, doll!" I quickly spin her out then into my arms, her back pressed firm to my chest with my hands anchored at her hips. She leans back in the embrace, watching me from the corner of her eye, and I lean closer, my lips brushing her ear. "I like fire."_

 _A smirk rolls over her lips and Annie throws herself forward. I extend my arm, letting her spin away before pulling her back into me where our eyes meet in a vehement stare._

" _Then let's find out how much heat you can take," she says with the twitch of her brow._

 _The band blares the upbeat tune of Benny Goodman's Sing Sing Sing and the fun music pounds through my core. We've been waiting all day, well, all month, to let loose and this is the perfect place._

 _Annie is light on her feet; quickly stepping, weaving in and out of my movements. We use the tension between our constantly-moving bodies to hold us in equilibrium. My hands never leave hers, always staying connected through our touch. Annie throws her head back, laughing heartily as I sway her around. Her smile the widest, most real, most beautiful I've ever seen._

 _Standing back to back, connected by our hands, I move her arm above and around her head, she moves mine, I move hers, and we finally straighten out by moving her arm one last time. I spin her out of our entangled arms, switching hands, and we revolve around each other, trading places. We move together like clockwork, two cogs linked seamlessly. Two figures on a music box, completely in sync._

 _In the middle of the night club, people are dancing, laughing, twirling across the wooden floor. But amidst the sea of people, only one stands out to me. I'm so enchanted by her that I don't want this night to ever end. I don't want to leave Annie and go with Steve in the morning and hunt down HYDRA. I don't want to leave her._

 _I slide one hand onto Annie's back and dip her backwards as the song finishes. The mass of people around us erupt in cheers and applause for the band but my eyes are on her and only her. I swallow thickly as I pull her up to her feet._

" _So," Annie smiles, "charming, handsome, and a good dance partner. You're just the whole package, aren't you?"_

 _I shrug. "It's been said."_

" _Glad to know you're humble," she chuckles, and something warm bursts in my chest._

 _The band on stage ushers in a change of pace for the crowd to recover from our racing heartbeats, only in exchange for a different kind of racing heartbeat. Annie looks towards the stage as they start a slower song: The Way You Look Tonight by the one and only Frank Sinatra._

 _I keep my eyes fixed on Annie. "Doll," I say, holding out my hand. "May I have this dance?"_

 _Annie looks at me, her eyes bearing an overwhelming fondness I had never known was possible. "You may have every dance," she smiles, and places her soft hand in mine._

 _I smile and drape my arm around her waist, pulling her into me. The song continues as we sway into a steady rhythm, and it's like her feet are dancing to the beat of my heart._

 _Annie lowers her head to my chest, and I rest my head on top of hers. "I love this song," she whispers._

 _I smile into her hair. "That's because it was written about you." She laughs at this, lifting her head to look at me and I swear she's closer than she was before. "You really are beautiful, Anne," I say with all sincerity._

 _Her face brightens at my words and I bite my lower lip to keep myself from capturing her smile with mine._

" _Thank you, Buck."_

" _But honestly, who doesn't love this song?" I muse with a laugh._

 _Annie smiles. "Steve."_

" _Peggy."_

" _No!" She defends, smiling when I throw my head back in a laugh. "Peggy likes this song, but I just think she likes Captain Rogers more."_

 _I shake my head at their ridiculous relationship. "Oh, Captain…" I sigh. "You know his name is Steve, right?"_

 _Annie scoffs. "I know exactly who he is. He's all Peggy ever talks about. She's smitten with him, even if she won't admit it."_

" _Oh, yeah? And are you smitten with anyone, doll?" I ask. "Besides me, of course."_

 _Annie grins and pauses for a moment, pretending to think. "Then I guess my answer's no."_

 _I smile at her, a newfound confidence swelling within me. Without warning, I spin her around, eliciting a yelp of glee and I laugh softly at the sound. She gracefully twirls back into my embrace, sliding her hand onto the nape of my neck once again. My skin excites under her touch and I pull her closer until our noses bump into each other. I feel her sweet breath hit my mouth and my heart lurches._

 _Annie looks up at me with her doe eyes and I lean in to close the little amount of space between our lips when she pulls away, her eyes glued over my shoulder._

" _Is that… Steve?"_

" _What?" Panic floods my system and I snap my head up, frantically searching the room. "Where?"_

 _Annie nods her head past my shoulder and I look behind me to see Steve standing by the entrance. Even with his broad shoulders and nicely pressed uniform, he still looks awkward and uncomfortable as ever. "Oh, shit," I breathe._

" _What?"_

" _We gotta go," I say, taking Annie's hand and leading her away with me._

" _Why?" She asks._

 _I glance over my shoulder at Steve. "Steve's just, uh, he's just looking out for me," I fib,weaving through the crowded floor . "Doesn't want me to stay out too late."_

" _Bucky," Annie chides._

" _Okay! Fine! I have this, uh…" I words falter as I figure out a way for us to sneak out without Steve seeing. I'm not trying to avoid the subject, I just don't know how to tell Annie that I'm leaving tomorrow to fight another war. "Let's just call it a prior engagement in the morning."_

" _Bucky, if you have somewhere to be, I can go — "_

 _"No!" I exclaim, turning to face her. Annie is taken back by my sudden outburst and I let out a sigh as I take her hands in mine. "Just… a little longer, doll. Please."_

 _Annie looks up at me and I can see the hesitancy in her eyes, the guilt about keeping me from my responsibilities, but if this is our only night together, then I want it to last forever._

 _She glances over her shoulder at Steve working his way through the crowd over to us, and I reach out, placing a gentle hand on her chin, and turning her back to me._

 _Her skin is like velvet. I keep my hand fixed on her cheek and tuck a loose curl of hair behind her ear. She leans into my hand, closing her eyes for a brief moment._

 _I can't let her leave._

" _Stay with me," I beg, my voice barely that of a whisper and somehow above the roar of night life and the crowd and the band, she hears me._

" _I'll always stay with you," she says._

 _Pure happiness rushes through me and all I can do is smile and press my forehead to hers because Goddammit I'm too much of a coward to press my lips to hers._

" _C'mon," I laugh, squeezing her hand and bringing us back to our gaiety. "Let's get out of here before Steve notices."_

The memory shifts, fading to a blur as we made our way outside, and I pull myself to the present.

Sometimes it's hard to know if the memories are real or if they're just a dream. But with one look at Annie, standing in the kitchen and doing nothing I can see except holding my entire world together, I know they were real. I know they happened.

I know _we_ happened.

It isn't until that moment when I see Annie in the kitchen, drying and putting away the last of the dishes, that I realize how much time has passed since I dove into the memory. The images were so consuming that I lost track of time.

I lost my control.

That's not good.

No.

No, that's what HYDRA wants me to believe.

Remembering is good.

Remembering is good.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here in silence but it must have been a while because Annie is looking at me and leaning on the kitchen counter, saying, "You remembered something, didn't you?"

I nod.

She smiles. "That's good. That's really good, Buck."

"But it'll all be for nothing if the Commander catches us and has me wiped," I say, standing from my seat and moving over to her. "And God knows what he'll do to you then if he finds out you've been killing his own men."

"Don't worry about me," she says, dismissively. A frown tugs at my mouth at her words, and she concedes. "But you're right, we should get moving. We've been here too long."

"And go where?" I ask. "The border's tightly patrolled, there are soldiers stationed every kilometer, there's no way we're getting through them."

Annie shakes her head. "We're not going through them. We're going over them."

I blink.

We're doing _what?_

"I just need to make a phone call," she adds, slipping down the hall to her bedroom with a far too eager smile. "We leave in five."

Not knowing what else to do other than blindly follow her once again, I tug on my boots and carefully slide my jacket on. My shoulder throbs with pain but I ignore it like usual.

We drive the motorcycle into town and stop outside a small shop in the center of main street. I stare through the frosted windows at the people sipping their coffee over the morning newspaper, suddenly feeling like I can't breathe as Annie slides off the bike to head inside.

"Annie, I think I'm just going to stay out here," I tell her.

She stops and looks back at me. "Bucky, no one will harm you here. You have my word," she says with a smile on her lips.

And how can I say no to that?

I swing my leg over the bike and follow her into the quaint shop, snow crunching under our boots and is quickly replaced with wood flooring as we enter the cafe. Annie greets the shop owner behind the counter as if she were greeting an old friend, and strides to the back of the room to the phone on the wall. People are staring at me, so I simply stand beside Annie and stare back.

They return to their reading without even a second glance.

I turn to Annie, entering the phone number into the rotary dial, and she pauses as she waits to be connected.

A woman's voice floats through the receiver. _"Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?"_

"Yes," Annie replies, "but I always carry an umbrella."

" _How may I help you, Agent?"_

"Agent Carter, please," Annie requests in a small voice.

" _One moment please."_

Annie flashes me a smile as she waits for the call to be transfered. I don't know what she's so excited about, but I know that I love her smile.

The line picks up and a British woman answers. _"Agent Carter."_

"Peggy, I have him."

" _Oh my, God… Anne? Annie, is that you?"_

Annie smiles. "Hey, Peggy."

Agent Carter sighs a breath of relief but it's mixed with frustration. _"Anne Cecelia Warrison, how dare you leave S.H.I.E.L.D. high and dry for nearly half the year! Would it have killed you to send a message and give your commanding officer peace of mind once in awhile?!"_

"You know I couldn't risk revealing myself. Not when Bucky's life was at stake."

 _"Sergeant Barnes?"_ Agent Carter softly says. _"Is he — "_

"Agent Carter," I speak up, leaning toward Annie as she moves the phone closer to me. "Lovely to hear from you again."

She clears her throat. _"Same to you, Sergeant. I take it the pair of you are enacting the extraction plan I devised, which puts you — "_

"Thirty-two kilometers from the rendezvous point," Annie finishes.

 _"Very good. A squadron is being prepped as we speak and will be sent to the coordinates straight away. Now, listen very carefully: You must be there at eighteen-hundred hours. If not, you are on your own. Is that understood?"_

"Understood," Anne and I reply. We look at each other, each grinning a little at our military background.

But I'm no longer a soldier. Not in the army and certainly not in HYDRA, thanks to Annie. She risked her life for me and without Agent Carter allowing her to do so, I wouldn't be standing here.

"Thank you, Agent Carter," I say.

" _Peggy, please,"_ she insists.

I smile. "Thank you, Peggy."

The shop owner beckons Annie over to him, and she hands me the phone before going over and speaking with him.

I move to hang up the receiver when I hear Peggy say, _"And James?"_

I press the phone back to my ear. "Yes?"

Moments pass as I wait for what she has to say and by her quickened breathing, it's important.

" _Look after her,"_ Peggy finally says. _"She's the only thing we have left to Steve."_

A brick slides down my throat and lands in my stomach at the mentioning of Steve. And it's the first time that I actually don't want to remember something.

But I look over at Annie, befriending a waitress as she waits for me to hang up the phone, and I realize she's the dearest person to both me and Peggy. And she knew Steve. She has the same serum running through her veins that I do, that Steve did. She connects all of us, and she must be protected. For my sake, for Peggy's, and for Steve.

I say to Peggy, more sure of anything in my life, "I will."


	6. Chapter 6: LONGING

_My hand remains entwined with Annie's as we hurry along the dimly lit street, the smell of the ocean growing stronger as we run from the downtown scene._

" _That was so close!" Annie squeals._

 _"Did you see his face?!" I say between laughs, mimicking Steve's dumbfounded look when we outsmarted him._

" _You should see yours!" Annie teases, slipping her hand out of mine. She runs ahead of me and I gawk at her with an open smile._

" _Oh, you are gonna pay for that!"_ _I sprint towards her and she lets out a playful yelp as she begins to run away. Approaching from behind, I wrap my arms around her waist, pull her into my arms, and lift her off the ground. Annie laughs, pressing her hands on my arms as I hold her close, and her smile is one of true happiness._

 _Looking over the railing of the pier, she suddenly gasps and I lean my head on her shoulder to look out at the water with her. "What is it, doll?"_

" _It just…" Annie shakes her head, assuring me that nothing's wrong. "It reminds me of home."_

 _I look up at her, realizing I actually have no idea where home is for her._

 _I don't know anything about her, actually._

 _Annie wears a reminiscent smile and taps my hand for me to set her down. "C'mon," she smiles, and pulls me along with her. We make our way to the stairs, slip off our shoes, and stomp through the sand, hand in hand._

" _Where is home for you?" I ask, the sand growing more firm and damp between my toes._

" _West coast," Annie beams. "California dreaming."_

" _Whoa! You're a long way from home," I chuckle._

 _She shrugs, solemnity overcoming her. "Just doing what needs to be done."_

" _I know the feeling…"_

 _I didn't enlist in the war. I didn't want to go because I was scared to death but, I put on a brave face for Steve when I was drafted. And if fighting a war is what it took to meet Annie then by God it was worth it._

 _Is it possible that something so sudden can feel so right?_

 _I look at Annie, staring out at the water. Our hands connect us as we stroll along the shoreline, our shoulders brushing comfortably and the water lapping at our feet._

 _"All my life, everyone's told me what to do," she says, breaking the stillness. "Get married, have kids, be a loyal wife, make a life for yourself… And then the war started and Peggy came to recruit me. What better way out of an apple pie life than by being a secret agent?" She giggles, squeezing my hand._

 _I smile at her laugh. "Don't you want that, though?" I ask. "A mortgage, kids, the whole nine?"_

" _Of course I want that," she says. "Someday. It's just… My entire life was planned out for me with no consent as to what I want now. So I left. That's why I like right now. That's why I like being here, with you. I like not knowing, and being young, and spontaneous, and unpredictable! I want to experience life!" She shouts to the starlit sky, almost in defiance to whatever force in the universe that laid such a dull path before her._

 _She is meant for more._

 _Annie laughs at her childish antics, clasping a hand over her mouth like she's embarrassed, and her smile is more than enough to make me smile. She turns to me, clear-headed, and says, "That's why I'm a long way from home."_

 _Her hair shifts in the breeze and I reach out, tucking a strand behind her ear. I gently touch her cheek, running my fingers from her cheekbone to her jaw._ _"My girl," I whisper. "My beautiful, brave girl."_

 _She smiles under my touch and her blue eyes shine in the faint light, imitating the moonlit water behind her._ _Blue always seemed like such a sad, cold color but in her eyes, blue seems alive. Like a force pulling me in and covering me with heat._

 _How am I going to leave her when morning comes?_

" _Annie…" I slide my hand away from her face and take her hands in mine. I take a deep breath and draw on my courage. I have to tell her. "I ship out in the morning with Steve."_

 _My eyes remain fixed on hers as she looks down at our hands. I feel her rubbing small circles on my skin. "I know," she quietly says. "It's not hard to tell."_

" _Doll, I don't expect you to wait for me. In fact, don't. I don't know if I'll make it home — "_

" _Hey," Annie soothes, sliding her hand along the back of my neck. "Hey, don't talk like that." She tilts her head and finds my eyes, compelling me to look up at her._

" _It's the truth," I say, my voice two sizes too small for my throat. "I might not come back. That's reality."_

" _And reality is that I don't care. This feeling I have when I'm with you? I want that for the rest of my life. I want to be with you, Buck. I'll wait for you. And if that means waiting in this life and in the next, so be it. I don't care," she says with a smile and a blithe shrug. "You're coming home to me."_

 _Part of me wants to laugh and part of me wants to cry._

 _I smile, and think how lucky I am to have her to fight for._ _There is nothing that can come between us or stop me from coming home to her. We've been through tough times ourselves, fought our demons alone and scared. We'll still face dark paths ahead, but now, we have each other. And I want a piece of me to be with her while I'm gone._

 _I let go of Annie's hand and reach inside my jacket. Moving past my shirt, I slip off the dog tags around my neck. I unclasp the latch and slide one of the tags off, leaving a duplicate on the chain. I place the chain around my neck and gently take Annie's hand._

" _Here," I say, opening her grasp and placing the copy inside. "Now I'll always be with you."_

 _Annie looks over the piece of metal and runs her thumb over the indented letters I've read time and time again._

 _BARNES B JAMES_

 _32557038 T42 43A_

 _As she looks over the tag, I take the time to memorize her every feature. Like the way her smile pulls slightly farther on her right, and the freckles that scatter her nose and cheeks, or how her eyes have their own vocabulary, and what a beautiful language it is to learn._

 _Annie doesn't say anything for a while. Just looks over the tag._

 _I wish she would say something._

 _Anything._

 _I look out over the water. "It's getting late. We should be going. C'mon, I'll walk you back." I turn and begin to stroll the way we came when Annie softly calls out, speaking words I thought she'd never say._

" _Stay with me."_

 _I stop in my tracks, and turn to face the woman I love._

" _Please," she says. "Just a little longer." And there's a sad smile on her lips and glistening tears in her eyes, and I take slow, deliberate steps to her. I pull her into me and she throws her arms around my neck and_ _she fits perfectly in my arms like she was made just for me._

 _I press my lips to her hair. "I'll always stay with you."_

The sound of waves crashing at our feet is replaced with snow crunching under our boots. And like water washing away our footprints, the memory leaves the forefront of my thoughts, leaving me breathless and exhausted, yet alive and whole.

Remembering is good.

Painful, but good.

Annie and I trek through the snow covered mountains to the rendezvous point. We walk under the protection of the trees, but our dark uniforms are a stark contrast to the pines blanketed in white. I adjust the AR-15 in my hands, ready for a fight at the drop of a hat, and the all too familiar weight is like an extension of me, another limb, another living part. It's comforting to have a proper weapon on hand again.

The shop owner led me and Annie to a shed just outside the cafe where he had an extensive arsenal of weapons. I grabbed us both assault rifles, handhelds, and a few other weapons HYDRA familiarized me with.

And that feeling seeps into my stomach again.

That _need._

The feeling that I need to protect Annie. No matter what it takes. And if that means using whatever I've learned from HYDRA to keep her safe then I'll do it.

I'm indebted to her.

I'm tied to her forever.

"I never thanked you," I tell her.

She looks at me, confused. "For what?"

"Patching me up," I suggest. "Getting me out of HYDRA, risking your life for me, cooking breakfast — "

"Bucky," she says, politely cutting me off and stopping to face me. "I told you: You save my life, I save yours. It's how we work. Besides, I'd do anything for you. I thought crossing an ocean to find you might convince you of that but apparently not," she laughs.

And I don't understand how she can smile at a time like this. How is she happy when HYDRA could still be tracking us? How can she say she'd do anything for me when she hardly knows me —

It is then I realize that even though I only remember pieces of her, she remembers all of me.

Without even thinking about it, I wrap my arm around her waist.

She did convince me.

And I would do anything for her, too.

Annie pulls me even further to her and I feel myself relax for the first time in years.

"Bucky, it's okay," she says, and I nod as I step back, knowing we need to keep moving but I notice a thin chain around her neck. Annie catches my fascination of it and reaches into her uniform to reveal the necklace. She holds out my dog tag and I swear my heart melts.

I run my gloved fingers over the engraving. "You kept this," I say.

"You remember," Annie says with an awed smile.

I let the chain hang from her neck. "I always remember you."

Something's wrong. My skin —

It's too hot. The palms of my hands are sweaty and my heart lurches in my chest —

Maybe nothing's wrong.

I've felt this before.

I move just a fraction of an inch and see a hint of excitement in Annie's eyes as she meets mine because she knows what's coming.

But I can't bring myself to do it.

So she does it for me.

Our lips meet in a soft kiss, slow and simple, gentle and tender with no expectations, only affection. She threads her fingers through my hair and I tilt her chin up to me, deepening the kiss. And I become so lost in her that I'm not sure where I end and where she beings. Our lives are forever entwined. From the super-serum coursing through our veins to the war back home to the HYDRA base behind us.

I pull away, and we freeze there together for a moment with our foreheads touching, like we did that night on the airstrip.

The airstrip.

 _I walk along the asphalt with my bag slung over my shoulder and my heart in my hands. I spent the night with Annie on that Godforsaken beach._

 _I never wanted to leave. Walking away from her was almost more painful than the pain HYDRA inflicted on me._

 _Almost._

 _Almost._

 _The aircraft roars to life and Steve stands at the hangar door, waving for me to hurry my ass up. But I'm gonna take my sweet time basking as the sun begins to rise just behind the plane, blending the dark hues of the night sky to warm signs of daybreak._

 _And over the whir of the engine —_

 _I hear my name called out behind me —_

 _And I nearly fall to my knees because —_

 _I know that voice._

 _I turn around, searching for her, and there she is._

 _Annie stands a hundred feet away, the breeze ruffling her dress, and I am jealous that the wind that tangles her hair and not me._

 _The duffle bag falls from my shoulder and I didn't even know it but I'm running. I run to her and she meets me halfway, colliding into my chest, throwing her arms around me, and I hold her tighter than I ever thought possible. I don't fool myself that I hold her together, though. She does that on her own. But holding her keeps me from flying apart._

" _I don't know how to say goodbye," Annie says, her breath hot on my neck._

 _I shake my head. "Then don't."_

 _Annie pulls back to look at me and I tip my head, inching closer to her lips, and kiss her._ _Something explodes within my chest, burning away the tension and confusion and fear. Burning away the past hellish month at HYDRA._

 _I frame her face in my hands and Annie slowly pulls away, pressing her forehead to mine._

" _Come home to me," she says, her voice surprisingly strong. "That's an order."_

 _A smirk rolls over my lips. "Yes, ma'am," I say, and steal one last kiss._

 _I begin to walk back towards the plane as Annie stays fixed on the tarmac, our hands touching until we're too far apart._ _I turn around and walk forward, telling myself to place one foot in front of the other. Steve is no longer standing at the ramp of the aircraft._

 _I don't know where any of this will end up, what will happen to me, or what will happen to her, but I do know that this is the greatest feeling I've ever had._

 _Grabbing my bag from the ground,_ _I stop and look back at Annie. "Best night of my life!" I yell to her._

 _Annie's grin bursts into a huge smile. She's too far away to hear her laugh but I know the sound so well that it rings in my ears._ _And I know I'm breaking her heart, but she holds her head high a_ _nd although it hurts like hell to see her standing there, tears streaming down her face, seeing her smile one more time makes it hurt a little less._

"I came back," I breathe, my nose bumping into hers.

"You came home," she corrects.

And I smile.

She's not wrong.

Annie is my home.

She will always be home.

"And I'm never leaving again," I say, and press my lips to hers.

I feel like this can't be real. This can't be my life.

But when I hear something overhead —

I know this is real.

Of course, this is my life.

A coughing roar sweeps past us; the sound of engines in the sky.

And the first shot is fired from above.


	7. Chapter 7: HOMECOMING

_My hand remains entwined with Annie's as we hurry along the dimly lit street, the smell of the ocean growing stronger as we run from the downtown scene._

" _That was so close!" Annie squeals._

 _"Did you see his face?!" I say between laughs, mimicking Steve's dumbfounded look when we outsmarted him._

" _You should see yours!" Annie teases, slipping her hand out of mine. She runs ahead of me and I gawk at her with an open smile._

" _Oh, you are gonna pay for that!"_ _I sprint towards her and she lets out a playful yelp as she runs away. Approaching from behind, I wrap my arms around her waist, pull her into my arms, and lift her off the ground. Annie laughs, pressing her hands on my arms as I hold her close, and her smile is one of true happiness._

 _She suddenly gasps, looking over the railing of the pier, and I lean my head on her shoulder to look out over the water with her. "What is it, doll?"_

" _It just…" Annie shakes her head. "It reminds me of home."_

 _I look at her, and I realize I have no idea where home is for her._

 _I don't know anything about her, actually._

 _Annie wears a reminiscent smile and taps my hand for me to set her down. "C'mon," she smiles, and pulls me along with her. We make our way to the stairs, slip off our shoes, and stomp through the sand hand in hand._

" _Where is home for you?" I ask, the sand growing more firm and damp between my toes._

" _West coast," Annie beams. "California dreaming."_

" _Whoa! You're a long way from home," I chuckle._

 _She shrugs, solemnity overcoming her. "Just doing what needs to be done."_

 _I nod, looking out at the water. "I know the feeling…"_

 _I didn't enlist in the war. I didn't want to because I was scared to death but, I put on a brave face for Steve when I was drafted. And if fighting a war is what it took to meet Annie then by God it was worth it._

 _Is it possible that something so sudden can feel so right?_

 _I look at Annie, staring out at the water. Our hands connect us as we stroll along the shoreline, our shoulders brushing comfortably and the water lapping at our feet._

 _"All my life, everyone's told me what to do," she says, breaking the stillness. "Get married, have kids, be a loyal wife, run a household… And then the war started and Peggy came to me with a job. What better way out of an apple pie life than by being a secret agent?" She giggles, squeezing my hand._

 _I smile at her laugh. "Don't you want that, though?" I ask. "A mortgage, kids, the whole nine?"_

" _Of course I want that. Someday. My entire life was planned out for me with no thought as to what I want now. So I left. That's why I like right now. That's why I like being here, with you. I like not knowing and being young and spontaneous and unpredictable! I want to experience life!" She shouts to the starlit sky, almost in defiance to whatever force in the universe that laid such a dull path before her._

 _She is meant for more._

 _Annie laughs at her childish antics, clasping a hand over her mouth like she's embarrassed, and her smile is more than enough to make me smile. She turns to me, clear-headed, and says, "That's why I'm a long way from home."_

 _Her hair shifts in the breeze and I reach out, tucking a strand behind her ear. I gently touch her cheek, running my fingers from her cheekbone to her jaw._ _"My girl," I whisper. "My beautiful, brave girl."_

 _She smiles under my touch and her blue eyes shine in the faint light, imitating the moonlit water behind her._ _Blue always seemed like such a sad, cold color but in her eyes, blue seems alive. Like a force pulling me in and covering me with heat._

 _How am I going to leave her when morning comes?_

" _Annie…" I slide my hand away from her face and take her hands in mine. I take a deep breath and draw on my courage. I have to tell her. "I ship out in the morning with Steve."_

 _My eyes remain fixed on hers as she looks down at our hands. I feel her rubbing small circles on my skin. "I know," she quietly says. "It's not hard to tell."_

" _Doll, I don't expect you to wait for me. In fact, don't. I don't know if I'll make it home — "_

" _Hey," Annie soothes, bringing a hand to my chest. "Hey, don't talk like that." She tilts her head and finds my eyes, compelling me to look up at her._

" _It's the truth," I say, my voice two sizes too small for my throat. "I might not come back. That's reality."_

" _And reality is that I don't care. This feeling I have when I'm with you? I want that for the rest of my life. I want to be with you, Bucky Barnes. I'll wait for you. And if that means waiting in this life and in the next, so be it. I don't care," she says with a smile and a blithe shrug. "You're coming home to me."_

 _Part of me wants to laugh and part of me wants to cry._

 _I smile, and think how lucky I am to have her to fight for._ _There is nothing that can come between us or stop me from coming home to her. We've been through tough times ourselves, fought our demons alone and scared. We'll still face dark paths ahead, but now, we have each other. And I want a piece of me to be with her while I'm gone._

 _I let go of Annie's hand and reach inside my jacket. Moving past my shirt, I slip off the dog tags around my neck. I unclasp the latch and slide one of the tags off, leaving a duplicate on the chain. I place the chain around my neck and gently take Annie's hand._

" _Here," I say, opening her grasp and placing the copy inside. "Now I'll always be with you."_

 _Annie looks over the piece of metal and runs her thumb over the indented letters I've read time and time again._

 _BARNES B JAMES_

 _32557038 T42 43A_

 _As she looks over the tag, I take the time to memorize her every feature. Like the way her smile pulls slightly farther on her right, and the freckles that scatter her nose and cheeks, or how her eyes have their own vocabulary and what a beautiful language it is to learn._

 _Annie doesn't say anything for a while. Just looks over the tag, and_ _I look out over the water. "It's getting late. We should be going." She still doesn't say anything._

" _C'mon, I'll walk you back." I turn and begin to stroll the way we came when Annie softly calls out, speaking words I thought she'd never say:_

" _Stay with me."_

 _I stop in my tracks and turn to face the woman I love._

" _Please," she says. "Just a little longer." And there's a sad smile on her lips and glistening tears in her eyes, and I take slow, deliberate steps to her. I pull her into me and she throws her arms around my neck and_ _she fits perfectly in my arms like she was made just for me._

 _I press my lips to her hair. "I'll always stay with you."_

The sound of waves crashing at our feet is replaced with snow crunching under our boots. And like water washing away our footprints, the memory leaves the forefront of my thoughts, leaving me breathless and exhausted yet alive and whole.

Remembering is good.

Painful, but good.

Annie and I trek through the snow-covered mountains to the rendezvous point. We walk under the protection of the trees but our dark uniforms are a stark contrast to the pines blanketed in white. I adjust the AR-15 in my hands, ready for a fight at the drop of a hat, and the all too familiar weight is like an extension of me, another limb, another living part. It's comforting to have a proper weapon on hand again.

The shop owner led me and Annie to a shed just outside the cafe where he had an extensive arsenal of weapons. I grabbed us both assault rifles, handhelds, and a few other weapons HYDRA familiarized me with.

And that feeling seeps into my stomach again.

That _need._

The feeling that I need to protect Annie. No matter what it takes. And if that means using whatever I've learned from HYDRA to keep her safe then I'll do it.

I'm indebted to her.

I'm tied to her forever.

"I never thanked you," I say.

She looks at me confused. "For what?"

"Patching me up. Getting me out of HYDRA, risking your life for me, cooking breakfast — "

"Bucky," she says, politely cutting me off and stopping to face me. "I told you: You save my life, I save yours. It's how we work. I'd do anything for you. I thought crossing an ocean to find you might convince you of that but apparently not," she laughs.

And I don't understand how she can smile at a time like this. How is she happy when HYDRA could still be tracking us? How can she say she'd do anything for me when she hardly knows me —

I realize that even though I only remember pieces of her, she remembers all of me.

Without even thinking about it, I wrap my arm around her waist. Annie pulls me even further to her and I feel myself relax for the first time in years.

"Bucky, it's okay," she says, and I nod as I step back, knowing we need to keep moving but I notice a thin chain around her neck. Annie catches my fascination of it and reaches into her uniform to reveal the necklace. She holds out my dog tag and I swear my heart melts.

I run my gloved fingers over the engraving. "You kept this…"

"You remember," she says with an awed smile.

I let the chain hang from her neck. "I always remember you."

Something's wrong. My skin —

It's too hot. The palms of my hands are sweaty and my heart lurches in my chest —

Maybe nothing's wrong.

I've felt this before.

I move just a fraction of an inch and see a hint of excitement in Annie's eyes as she meets mine because she knows what's coming.

But I can't bring myself to do it.

So she does it for me.

Our lips meet in a soft kiss, slow and simple, gentle and tender with no expectations, only affection. She threads her fingers through my hair and I tilt her chin up to me, deepening the kiss. And I become so lost in her that I'm not sure where I end and where she beings. Our lives are forever entwined. From the super-serum coursing through our veins to the war back home to the HYDRA base behind us.

I pull away, and we freeze there together for a moment with our foreheads touching, like we did that night on the airstrip.

The airstrip.

 _I walk along the asphalt with my bag slung over my shoulder and my heart in my hands. I spent the night with Annie on that Godforsaken beach._

 _I never wanted to leave. Walking away from her was almost more painful than the pain HYDRA inflicted on me._

 _Almost._

 _Almost._

 _The aircraft roars to life and Steve stands at the hangar door, waving for me to hurry my ass up. But I'm gonna take my sweet time basking as the sun begins to rise just behind the plane, blending the dark hues of the night sky to warm signs of daybreak._

 _And over the whir of the engine —_

 _I hear my name called out behind me —_

 _And I nearly fall to my knees because —_

 _I know that voice._

 _I turn around, searching for her, and there she is._

 _Annie stands a hundred feet away, the breeze ruffling her dress, and I am jealous that the wind that tangles her hair and not me._

 _The duffle bag falls from my shoulder and I didn't even know it but I'm running. I run to her and she meets me halfway, colliding into my chest, throwing her arms around me, and I hold her tighter than I ever thought possible. I don't fool myself that I hold her together, though. She does that on her own. But holding her keeps me from flying apart._

" _I don't know how to say goodbye," Annie says, her breath hot on my neck._

 _I shake my head. "Then don't."_

 _Annie pulls back to look at me and I tip my head, inching closer to her lips, and kiss her._ _Something explodes within my chest, burning away the tension and confusion and fear. Burning away the past hellish month at HYDRA._

 _I frame her face in my hands and Annie slowly pulls away, pressing her forehead to mine._

" _Come home to me," she says, her voice surprisingly strong. "That's an order."_

 _A smirk rolls over my lips. "Yes, ma'am," I say, and steal one last kiss._

 _I begin to walk back towards the plane as Annie stays fixed on the tarmac, our hands touching until we're too far apart._ _I turn around and walk forward, telling myself to place one foot in front of the other. Steve is no longer standing at the ramp of the aircraft._

 _I don't know where any of this will end up, what will happen to me, or what will happen to her, but I do know that this is the greatest feeling I've ever had._

 _Grabbing my bag from the ground,_ _I stop and look back at Annie. "Best night of my life!" I yell._

 _Annie's grin bursts into a huge smile. She's too far away to hear her laugh but I know the sound so well that it rings in my ears._ _And I know I'm breaking her heart, but she holds her head high a_ _nd although it hurts like hell to see her standing there, tears streaming down her face, seeing her smile one more time makes it hurt a little less._

"I came back," I breathe, my nose bumping into hers.

"You came home," she corrects.

And I smile.

She's not wrong.

Annie is my home.

She will always be home.

"And I'm never leaving again," I say, and press my lips to hers.

I feel like this can't be real. This can't be my life.

But when I hear something overhead —

I know this is real.

Of course, this is my life.

A coughing roar sweeps past us; the sound of engines in the sky.

And the first shot is fired from above.


	8. Chapter 8: BENIGN

I'm already on the move and dragging Annie with me for cover before she can even process the turn of events. We hurry across a small clearing and crouch behind a group of trees.

Annie squints as she searches the sky for the source of the disturbance.

"It's HYDRA," I say without having to even identify the aircraft, and pull a loaded mag from my hip.

Annie looks at me. "What if it's S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have Tesseract technology," I huff, remembering the first time I was attacked with that kind of machinery, and insert the cartridge into the gun.

The enormous airship comes flying through the mountains and the sight of it is jolting. Big and shiny, blue thrusters burn hot and loud as it lowers in the middle of the forest.

"How did they find us?" Annie mumbles under her breath.

"The phone call," I answer, tucking the rifle into my shoulder. "HYDRA watches every communication port."

"But it was protected. I made sure it of it."

"Then there's a traitor in S.H.I.E.L.D."

There's a loud wrenching sound from above, followed by the groan and squeal of hydraulics. I watch the helicarrier through my scope. A large ramp on the bottom of the aircraft opens, lowering on its hinges, and five people emerge from the darkness, dressed in black and bulky uniforms that cover them from head to toe.

I aim at the people on the hatch door and fire three quick shots. There's a spray of red mist and bodies crumple to the floor. The recoil is strong and I feel the familiar bump of pain in my shoulder.

Two black suits dive off the side and hunch down behind the helicarrier for protection. A head peeks over the edge of the hatch and I quickly set it in my sights, firing a shot. Blood spatters the air and the soldier drops. The last soldier does the same and I pull the trigger, easily taking him down.

Without having to say anything, Annie and I both start running. More soldiers will start coming out of the helicarrier. We're outnumbered, outgunned; We have a better chance of running away. Something Annie and I are very good at.

A blur of movement, a quick flash of something dark and small, rushes past. The bullets keep coming, landing all around us. Annie and I move as quick as we can. We pass behind a group of trees — I hear a few hard thunks as bullets bury themselves in the branches and trunks — then we're in the open again.

We keep running.

I hear the roar of thrusters, and a warm wind blows across my face. The roar grows louder, the wind stronger. I look up, following the noise, to see another aircraft arriving.

"It's S.H.I.E.L.D.!" Annie exclaims, and she's cut off by an ear-shattering explosion behind us. I turn back to look at the eruption, unable to help myself.

The HYDRA aircraft is in flames and I want to let out a shriek of victory. I don't but Annie does, wild and triumphant.

I glance at her. She's so alive it's beautiful.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft lands in a clearing fifty meters from us. Before it even touches down, the ramp door is lowering and soldiers are running into the woods, guns blazing. Bodies in uniform hurry past and the sound of gunshots fill the air.

Annie grabs my arm, ushering me forward. "We need get you on board!" She orders, yelling over the drone of the plane.

"We can't leave!" I shout, maneuvering out of her grasp. "We have to help them."

Little silver streaks shoot through the air, raining down on the people trying to defend us. I follow the breeze that signals a set of bullets coming our way and lift my metal arm in front of Annie and I, using it as a shield. The clink of metal on metal rings in my ears and the bullets fall to the ground.

Annie stares at me before rolling her eyes, and I know she's on board to stay and fight.

"Don't go far," I tell her, a level of warning in my tone.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she replies, tapping my metal shoulder of a shield before running into the fray.

I exhale a laugh, at Annie, and for the fact that I turned down a chance to run away. Bucky must still control a large amount of the Winter Soldier.

The thought is reassuring.

I sprint through the woods to a secure position. A bullet grazes the fabric on my arm and it hits the snow. Another bullet hits the neck of a man just as I'm running past —

He screams and dives forward as blood spurts from the wound. I hear the distinct _swoosh_ of bullets around me, hear the piercing clink of them hitting my metal arm.

I run on.

I duck under a low hanging branch and crouch behind a thick tree for cover. Tucking the gun into my shoulder, every bullet I send HYDRA's way finds its mark, slamming into the head and chests of the soldiers. They crumple to the ground instantly.

Here in the woods of this Soviet mountain side, I know no one except for Annie. I fight alongside unknown faces of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the faces of HYDRA remain covered. Though, there is one soldier's movements that seem familiar. His face is covered by a mask but I watch him, analyzing his fight pattern and —

He's the man who shot me at the apartment.

Anger boils up inside me and I clench my jaw, setting him in my sights. He stands forty-six meters away, firing his weapon with an uncomfortable ease; I pull the trigger and it hits him in his shoulder. He cries out, falling to his knees.

I emerge from my hiding spot and race over to him. He clutches his shoulder with one hand and raises his gun at me with the other. I kick the weapon out of his hands, sending it flying to the snow, and smash my fist into his chin. I flip the rifle in my hands and slam the end into his head. He falls back and lays unmoving in the snow, the white layer gradually turning scarlet with blood.

I risk a quick glance over at Annie. A soldier swats her gun out of her hands but she quickly stops the jab intended for her stomach. She isn't fighting like she used to. She's sensing where the opponent is going and anticipates their next move. She's utilizing the abilities given to her, she's doing what I taught her.

I feel that warmness in my chest again, proud of my brave girl, but somewhere in Annie's fight things take a wrong turn. The soldier gains the upper hand and confines her in his arms —

Bullets whir toward me as I've stopped moving and I dive out of the way —

And a soldier grabs me and slams my back against a tree, the gun slipping out of my hands. I let out a groan and he squeezes my throat, cutting off the sound.

I have to help Annie.

Grabbing the man by his shoulders, I drive my knee into his groin. He doubles over and I lift his head, punching him right and left. He stumbles and falls unconscious. Diving across the snowy terrain, I grab my gun and hold it tight as I peer through the scope. The soldier drags Annie, kicking and screaming, away from the warzone to a different aircraft.

Doubt and hesitation fill my insides —

The shot's not clean, I can't separate her from the soldier —

I could kill her.

I adjust my grip on the gun, tapping my fingers along the side of the barrel, a reminder to myself that I can do this, that the gun is here and when it comes down to it —

I never miss.

I pull the trigger —

And the man crumples and slumps down to the snow, releasing Annie. She scrambles away from the body and looks between the trees to me, a mix of emotions on her face.

She's always worn her heart on her sleeve. And her face. She can't help it. It's who she is. Her expression is filled with gratitude, love, concern, and that bond of unwavering loyalty between us grows even stronger since we've saved each other countless times. I never thought that I would share a warzone with the woman I love.

But here I am.

Here we are.

And then —

Then another HYDRA soldier emerges from the trees —

His gun is raised —

And aimed right at Annie.

My heart sinks and I begin running towards her.

"Annie, get down!" I scream, but my voice is drowned out by the explosion of the gunshot.

Annie stiffens —

I skid to a halt —

And my heart shatters.

She looks down to her stomach and presses a hand to the wound. I already see her eyes growing distant. Another loud bang goes off, hitting her again, another hole ripped through her again, and she sways before collapsing to the snow.

I run to her, sprinting like I did that night on the airstrip —

She can't die —

She can't.

I vary my steps, dodging the trees, speeding my way toward her. My muscles burn with heat and begin to cramp from the unevenness but that doesn't stop me.

She can't die —

I can't lose her —

I just got her back —

Bullets thunk into the ground around my feet.

Another set hits my arm.

The shooters improve their aim.

The bullets hit people left and right and the air is filled with explosions and screams of pain and terror.

HYDRA is winning, and I don't care.

I only care about one thing.

"Annie," I breathe, dropping to my knees at her side. She looks up at me, terrified.

"Buck…"

"Shh, save your strength," I say, propping her head in my hands. "You're gonna be okay." I hate the lie even as I say it. Especially when I move her hands, coated in bright red, to see the wounds. I quickly cover the bullet holes with my hands again, already stained with her blood. Annie moves a hand behind her back, grinding her teeth and whimpering at the excruciating pain spreading through her, a pain I know all too well.

She pulls out the red book with shaking hands and brings it to my hands on her stomach.

I don't understand —

"Take it," she whispers, her lips quivering as tears spill from her eyes. "Keep it safe. Or they'll use it against you…" Annie's eyes close and she begins shaking, convulsing in pain.

"Annie," I say, setting the book to the side. "Annie, hey, I'll take the book, I'll take it but stay with me, you gotta stay with me."

Annie responds with as much of a nod as she can. Her shakes lessen as she gets her body under control and she opens her eyes.

I never thought I could love the color blue so much.

"I'll always st-stay with y-you," she whispers.

Tears sting my eyes as the mountain breeze rushes past because God damn it I love her.

I love her so much —

But the effort to speak is too much for her, and she coughs and sputters as the life starts to leave her, blood drooling from her mouth —

"Annie? Annie!"

I grip her shoulders and shake her, hoping this isn't real —

Just another implanted memory —

Another lie HYDRA is telling me —

But it's not.

I know it's not.

I hunch over Annie's body, feel her chest rise and fall with short quick breaths, and it doesn't matter what HYDRA's people yell at me because in this moment I do not exist.

She's going to die —

She's going to die and it's my fault —

It's all my fault —

Strong arms hook under my shoulders and torso, prying me away from Annie —

I swing my arm back, hard, and feel it connect with a soldier's nose.

There's a burning pain in my side and I cry out at the pain spreading like a wildfire and see them lowering the taser away from me and my moment of weakness lets them drag me toward the aircraft —

And they grab Annie —

"NO!" I scream. "Don't touch her! Leave us alone! Annie!"

I fight against the soldiers that hold me, but not enough to get away as they carry her limp body to the aircraft with us. If HYDRA is taking Annie, then I am going back with her.

I won't leave her —

We'll always stay together —

Always —

I watch HYDRA gundown the remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives and slowly backtrack to the aircraft. The roar of the engine grows louder as the men haul me out of the forest and onto the safety of the plane. A soldier runs along my side, carrying a silver tube in his hand. He uses a strong hand to push my face away, exposing my neck, and a sharp pain pinches my skin as the man floods my system with some concoction.

I claw at my neck, pulling the needle out of my throat —

Whatever it is they want me to do, I don't.

They drag me onto the plane and the hatch door slams shut with a thunderous boom that echoes off the dark walls of the carrier's interior. The men dump me along the cool metal wall, every inch of my body aching, and I feel blood dripping from me in several different spots but none of that matters because Annie —

I look over at the men huddled around her —

And the details of the interior have become difficult to see, the dark walls and men in black uniforms smudging together —

The only thing I hear are Annie's screams and even that is distant in my ears —

It feels like my head is submerged in water and I can't find the surface.

And I don't fight it.

I let it take me.

I let the drug wash over me. But the calm I feel is not the same calmness Annie gives me.

This is cold.

This is freezing the man I was, the man Annie helped me remember, and —

And it's bringing back the Winter Soldier.

I can feel it —

He's still inside me —

The aircraft jolts as it lifts from the ground, sending the world into a spinning blur, and I don't fight it. I let exhaustion overpower me. And I drift to sleep with Annie's name on my lips.


	9. Chapter 9: FREIGHT CAR

I'm jostled awake.

Men on either side drag me through a corridor.

Shouts echo down the hall.

Russian shouts.

It takes me a moment to register the language.

I'm so used to speaking in English for the past three days with —

A door opens and the yelling is more distinct as the soldiers drag me inside.

"I authorized for you to bring The Asset back! I did not authorize you using my daughter to do so!"

Commander Ida.

The men at my sides pull me to my feet, keeping their arms firmly around mine to keep me from falling, or escaping. And in front of me —

Is her —

Annie.

A long window pane shows into the next room where six doctors in white lab coats operate on her still body lying on the table.

The Commander turns to me, blocking my view of Annie, and he's holding the red book in his hands.

I swallow thickly.

"What is this?" He asks, holding the book up in front of me.

I stare forward.

"Speak, soldier, now. What is this?"

"Notes," I stiffly reply.

The Commander nods approvingly and flips through the pages. "Have you read them?"

I stare at Annie.

"No."

"Pity. They are very good. But do you know, soldier, what these words mean?" He shows me the book with my list of memories.

"No," I say again.

The Commander frowns at me like I've disappointed him. "Longing."

My body tenses —

The night club with Annie —

I longed for her to stay —

"Interesting," he notes. "And you're sure you don't know — "

" _Sir!"_ A voice thankfully cuts in. _"We're losing her! She's lost nearly four pints!"_

I look to the room on the other side of the glass and see monitors beeping and doctors scurrying about and Annie —

The Commander moves to the window and presses the intercom on the wall. "Then give her mine," he orders.

" _That won't be possible, sir."_

"Excuse you?"

" _Your blood types are different. I don't know who this is, but this is not your daughter."_

Commander Ida's face is rigid and calculating. He turns to me, and I don't dare look him in the eye. I set my gaze forward, avoidingly.

He approaches me again. "Status report," he demands, and the words send shivers down my spine, awakening the Winter Soldier. He's still inside me, lurking in the dark parts of my thoughts, just waiting to be activated. "Tell me everything you know about this woman," he says, stepping closer to my face.

Despite the training that slowly works its way back into my system, I have a choice to make. Either resist giving them what they want and risk Annie's life, or give them what they want and save Annie's life.

There is no choice to make.

I take a breath.

"Doctor Gertrude Ida is an alias for S.S.R. Agent, Anne Warrison. Enlisted in California, stationed in England for communication operations from '44 to '45, second test subject of Doctor Erskine."

" _My God,"_ the head surgeon says. " _She's a super-soldier."_

I watch the Commander look back at Annie, fascinated with the discovery of a new science experiment. But Annie is not a science experiment. I am not a science experiment.

We are made of more.

We're made of our memories.

We're made of dancing in England, laughing under the stars, bidding farewell at the airstrip, declaring our loves and our fears —

We are made of more. More than HYDRA will ever know.

Commander Ida speaks through the com on the wall. "Doctor, is it possible to save her with the blood platelets of another of her kind?"

" _I suppose. But Stark hasn't released another batch of the serum — "_

"We don't need the serum," the Commander says, looking to me. "Do everything you can to keep her alive."

The surgeon nods. _"Yes, sir."_

Commander Ida saunters his way toward me with a smug grin. "If I can't save her, then you will."

I don't dare look at him. My eyes are on Annie fighting for her life.

We are not made of more.

Her screams send a jolt of horror thudding through my bones. The sound is a shrill, animalistic cry of raw pain. She screams for them to stop. She cries and she screams and she yells for them to kill her.

That's how I was when I was turned. The serum HYDRA uses is similar to Stark's but the effects the process itself has are… amplified. It may be how they distribute the drug, by injection or, in Annie's case, blood transfusion. If it hurt like hell for me, I can't imagine what it is like for her.

I wait in the dark holding room, sitting in silence as medics visit to draw blood every few hours. The only sound is the hum of the electroshock chair, administering a charge every so often that inhibits my arm.

My mind has become my own again despite the drip line of sedatives that run into the veins. It hardly affects me.

I wish it did.

Annie isn't the only one waiting for the sweet release of death. Anything would be better than hearing her scream.

But she can't die. I won't let her. The blood coursing through her veins, my blood, will save her. Her screams will subside and she'll be whole again. She'll be alive. That's all I want.

I hear a set of footsteps approach the room. And another. And then another until an entire army is moving swiftly through the corridor to my cell.

"Sir, he's unresponsive," a man attempts to explain.

"We're draining him too quickly," says the head surgeon.

The door hisses as the pressurized seal releases, opening the entryway regardless of their pleas. Commander Ida marches inside followed by his advisors and several soldiers all in black gear with rifles pointed at me. Even with my injured shoulder I could take everyone in this room down without breaking a sweat. And yet, I don't. Because I need them. I need them to save her.

Commander Ida grabs a stool, dragging it across the concrete floor, and sits in front of me. He doesn't say anything for a minute. Just sits there, staring, evaluating me.

"We've said before that your work is a gift," he finally says. "Now, it's more true than ever. Your little exploration of our beautiful country delivered an asset right into our lap. HYDRA is grateful of you."

My eyes flit in his direction.

I know I'm being lied to.

I remember the first time I woke up here, weak and on the verge of death, looking up and having Zola say those things to me. Not only once but twice.

And here I am. Again.

They feed me lies so I would accept my fate and now they're going to say those exact same things to Annie.

"How is she?" I ask.

The Commander glances at his advisors. "Stable," he replies. "For now."

The serum in her can only regenerate her cells so quickly.

She needs more.

I hold out my arm, letting them take whatever they need. The Commander flicks his hand and the medical personnel moves to my side.

"Thank you, soldier," he says. "The two of you will be the new fist of HYDRA. Together, you will shape the century."

A man inserts the needle into the crease of my elbow, sickly bruised from the previous extrusions, and begins drawing another vial of blood.

Commander Ida stands from his seat and addresses a technician. "When you're done, wipe him and put him in his cryo. Same with the girl."

"Sir, we can't put her in stasis," the head surgeon argues. "We don't know the effects his blood will have on her."

"And I said put them on ice. We'll deal with the consequences in a few decades." The Commander turns and walks out of the room, followed by his counselors, and leaving me alone with my handlers.

I didn't want this.

I wanted Annie alive, I didn't want her turned into a weapon.

I should have seen this coming. Everything that happened to me, they're doing to her. They're experimenting on her with my blood. They operate on her while she's awake, they keep her alive when she should be dead, all against her will, all because of me —

They're going to destroy her mind, she's going to live the rest of her life not knowing if her thoughts are her own, think only in fragments, all because of me —

The technicians place a hand on my shoulder, pushing me to lay back into the chair.

Panic floods my system —

I have to remember. Without my memory, I'm nothing.

They initiate the system and the clamps grasp my arms with a frigid snap. My chest rises and falls with short, fast breaths and as the headpiece slots in place, I try to hold on.

Hold on to the memories, hold on to Steve, hold on to Annie, hold on to my name —

Pain rips through my skull —

I scream.

It tears at my throat —

Bucky. My name is Bucky.

Annie —

My name is Bucky.

Steve. Friend.

Annie Annie Annie —

Bucky —

My name is Bucky —

My name is —

My name

my na

my

m

"Good morning, soldier."

"готовы соблюдать."


End file.
